Mother's Day
by sonorusgoesthesilence
Summary: One Shot of Harry Potter's experiences of Mother's Day over the years.


**AN: Happy Mother's Day! This is a one-shot about Harry's experiences of Mother's Day. For you Americans out there, British Mother's day is the fourth Sunday of Lent and so is always just before Easter. Sorry about the sentimentality in a lot of these.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any copyright, including those to Harry Potter.**

**29th March 1981**

James entered the room with his baby son in one arm and a massive bouquet of flowers in the other.

"These are from Harry," he told Lily, presenting her with the flowers and planting a massive kiss on her lips. He tilted Harry towards her and he too kissed her clumsily on the cheek. Lily laughed as she put the flowers in a vase, before taking her son and letting the both of them be enfolded in a hug from James.

"Happy Mother's Day, love," James told her. "I'll make breakfast."

Petunia was standing in her kitchen washing up the pans she'd just used to make Vernon's high-grease breakfast. He came in, dumping his baby son in the highchair and handed Petunia a small bouquet of petunias.

"Happy Mother's Day from Dudley," he said gruffly as Petunia pecked him on the cheek.

**21st March 1982**

Two small boys sat on the floor of the living room. The smaller sat quietly as he traced the pattern of the carpet with his tiny clean fingers, ignoring the pinches of his cousin. Though there was little more than a month between the ages of the two boys, there could have been several: the blond boy was twice the size of black-haired one.

Vernon entered and chuckled at his son, who had grown bored of pinching Harry and was now throwing Duplo bricks around the room.

"Little tyke," Vernon muttered as he crossed the room to his wife and handed her a little bunch of flowers. "Happy Mother's Day, from Dudley, of course."

"Of course," Petunia smiled, putting down her duster so that she could put the flowers in some water.

**13th March 1983**

Two-year old Dudley waddled into the kitchen with his father right behind him. His cousin Harry sat and watched curiously as Vernon handed Petunia some flowers and Dudley smiled. "Happy Mummy Day, Mummy," he said as tears welled in Petunia's eyes and she hugged her son.

"What's Mummy day?" asked Harry.

"You don't need to worry about it and don't ask questions," was his aunt's reply.

**1st April 1984**

Once again Harry found himself watching the process of Dudley walking into the kitchen, handing his mother some flowers and receiving a hug and kiss in return.

"Where's my Mummy?" the black-haired boy asked.

"I've told you before, she died in a car accident when you were a baby, and don't ask questions," Petunia told him.

**17th March 1985**

This year, Harry understood the day. He and Dudley had been attending St Grogory's Primary School since September and in class they'd all been asked to make Mother's Day cards. When Harry asked what he should do, the teacher explained to him that Mother's Day was about appreciating those who look after us, and so he should give his aunt a card instead. So, when he woke on Sunday morning, he took the card off his small shelf, left his cupboard and walked into the kitchen where his aunt had just started making a cup of tea.

"Happy Mother's Day, Aunt Petunia," he told her, smiling as he gave her the card. She stared at it in disbelief and raised her gaze to her nephew. His smile faltered as he saw in her eyes anger and something else that at four years old he did not understand.

"I'm not your mother," she told him quietly.

"I know, but you're her sister. And Mrs Price told me that Mother's Day is for appreciating those who look after us and it doesn't have to be our real mothers."

Petunia turned her back on the boy and didn't reply. He left the room, disappointed that his attempt to connect had failed. Petunia stared out of the window as she allowed herself a tear for her sister.

**9th March 1986**

Once again, the year one class had spent a lesson making cards and planting flowers for Mother's Day. Harry joined in simply because there wasn't anything else to do, but when they took them home on Friday, he had given them to his aunt straight away, without lingering to see her reaction. He got to watch Dudley presenting his gifts on Sunday, but the small boy didn't notice that the card Dudley made went on the shelf next to another Mother's Day card – made on the same type of card but with neater writing – and that two identical budding flowers sat on the windowsill.

**29th March 1987**

At six, Harry had not been given specific time at school to make his aunt something so, as a result, she didn't get anything from him. He spent breakfast on Mother's Day being taught by his aunt how to cook a Full English whilst they pretended that they didn't both know that the reason Vernon and Dudley had left the house so early that morning was to drive to the corner shop which had recently changed hands and now opened on Sundays and happened to sell flowers.

Although Harry knew that his aunt was only teaching him to cook so that he could cook instead of her, he had to admit he enjoyed their short lesson. Petunia, meanwhile, managed to cover up her pride as her sister's son turned out a set of perfectly cooked bacon rashers.

**13th March 1988**

Harry placed a cup of tea in front of his aunt. When she offered him a smile, he blinked in confusion but didn't react further. He returned to the hob and started frying eggs.

"Happy Mother's Day!" announced Dudley, giving Petunia a wrapped present rather than the usual flowers. She kissed him and opened the present, putting on a wide fake smile when she saw the box of chocolates.

"Tell you what, Popkin, you can have the chocolates," she told him. The boy grinned and immediately opened the box, scoffing at least four before turning to the plate that Harry placed before him.

**5th March 1989**

Another year and once again Harry was frying some sausages whilst his aunt cried over her darling boy's present – the same perfume she wore every day. After breakfast, Vernon announced that he was taking Dudley over to Piers' house and suddenly, Harry found himself alone with his aunt.

"Well," he said when he'd finished washing up and found her still sitting there watching him. "Happy Mother's day."

"Thank-you, Harry," she said gently. Harry left the room quickly while she was still in this strange mood before she gave him loads of chores.

**25th March 1990**

For once, Harry got to miss the joys of Mother's Day due to his being locked in his cupboard. On Wednesday, he'd gotten into trouble on the way back from school because, according to Uncle Vernon, he'd nearly set fire to the car. Truth was, Harry thought it must have been an electrical fault or something because all that had happened was Uncle Vernon was talking to Dudley about what they might do about Mother's Day when he'd made a comment about Harry not having a mother. Harry had gotten angry and was about to shout or scream at his uncle when all of a sudden the dashboard started smoking. Uncle Vernon had taken one look at Harry's red face and he'd been confined to his cupboard for a week.

Around mid-afternoon, Harry heard the sounds of football on the TV. A few minutes later, his cupboard door opened and his aunt's hand entered, holding a plate full of roast dinner. He took the plate, thanking her quietly as his door closed again.

**10th March 1991**

Harry barely even noticed Mother's Day this year. Of course, it was hard to miss his aunt fussing over his cousin, but as he made up a pot of tea, he ignored his family and instead brooded about the news he'd had last week. Next year, he and Dudley would finally be in different classes – even different schools. Dudley would be going to Smelting's and Harry to Stonewall High. He wasn't sure how to feel about this – happy that he wouldn't be with his cousin, or worried about the new school. Maybe it would be easier to make friends without Dudley there. He doubted it, though. Most of his primary school would be going to Stonewall. Besides, if he kept up this craziness of ending up on the school roof when he was trying to run away, they'd all soon know that he was a bit of a freak.

**29th March 1992**

Harry didn't even spare a thought for his aunt when Hermione and Ron both sent owls home for Mother's Day. They didn't note the day in anyway at breakfast, instead chatting about school.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away," Ron was complaining as they got up to head to the library.

"Ten weeks," she snapped back. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicholas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old. Anyway what are you revising for, you already know it all."

Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione started ranting about how important the exams were to make it into second year. They passed Professor Quirrell and all gave him an encouraging smile in the hope that he'd continue to stand up to Snape.

**21st March 1993**

The students only had a week left of term before Easter. The Mandrakes had been throwing parties in Greenhouse three, which gave Professor Sprout hope that they would soon be mature enough to revive Colin, Justin, Nearly-Headless Nick and Mrs Norris. Nearly four months had passed since the last attack, which saved Harry, Ron and Hermione from the effort of asking Hagrid about what Tom Riddle's diary had told them. Harry was, therefore, in quite a good mood as he opened his photo album to look at the picture of himself with his parents.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mum," he said. Lily's picture waved at him, smiling and blowing kisses.

**13th March 1994**

Harry headed to Lupin's office straight after dinner. His Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher smiled at him as he entered.

"Good evening, Harry. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded and Lupin flicked his wand to open the Boggart's cupboard. The Dementor rose out of it.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry yelled concentrating on the moment he found out he was a wizard. An indistinct silver shadow came out of his wand and hovered, holding the Dementor back as Harry felt his energy drained. As his energy lowered even more, he didn't faint like he would have done three or four weeks ago, but he did still hear the voices.

'_Not Harry! Please –'_

'_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! –'_

Then, all of a sudden, his Patronus shifted and he felt a surge of energy, as he heard the same voices but saying different words to what he was used to.

'_Lily, love, it's a boy –' said James_

'_Harry. My Harry –' Lily gasped_

'_You're a mother, Lils!' That was James again._

'_He's so like you, James,' said a new voice – a man's. Harry recognised it as Lupin._

'_Oh no, there's two of them?' another man asked jokily._

'_Sirius, do everyone a favour and shut up,' James answered._

'_Only if you let me hold my godson,' Sirius replied_

The Patronus grew lighter, although it still didn't form a particular shape.

'_These are from Harry. Happy Mother's Day, love.'_

Harry gasped and lost concentration. Lupin forced the Boggart back into the cupboard.

"Are you okay?" he asked, handed Harry a chocolate frog.

"Yes," replied Harry. "I heard... I don't know. It wasn't like the other times. It started off with my parents dying, but then it changed. It wasn't bad memories anymore. I think... I think it was when I was born."

"I... what?"

"Yeah, I could hear my dad telling Lily it was a boy and that she was a mother and then she said my name. And I heard... I think it was you. Were you there? You said I looked like James."

"Yes, I was there," Lupin said softly. Harry looked up to see tears in his eyes. He thought about telling Lupin that he'd heard Sirius Black as well, but he remembered his teacher's reaction the last time he'd mentioned their old friendship and decided against it.

He returned to his dorm, repeating in his mind the last word's he'd heard his father say before the Boggart went away, wondering what today, or any of the other Mother's Days he could remember would have been like if his parents were still alive.

**26th March 1995**

Harry marvelled that Hermione had time to research magical means of bugging on top of the workload that they had. He worked through most of the weekend, only breaking to eat and to send another package of food to Sirius with a short note letting him know that everything was fine, nothing major had happened, and they still hadn't heard from Percy about Crouch. He finally finished the last of his essays at ten o'clock at night and went to bed, exhausted, straight away, after wishing his mother's photo a happy Mother's Day.

**17th March 1996**

Harry sat in the common room bored for the first time in ages. Now that he no longer had Quidditch, and he didn't have any detentions off Umbridge for once, he'd actually managed to catch up with all his work. The only homework he'd put off until the Sunday having not got it done before his Occlumency lesson the day before was Divination, but seeing as how Umbridge had sacked Trelawney the night before, Harry doubted that there was any need to do that. Firenze wouldn't care about it at any rate. _Ruddy star gazer _as Hagrid would put it. He wouldn't be interested in cartomancy.

He cast a glance around the common room. The rest of the fifth years, including Hermione, were studying. Ron and Ginny were both at Quidditch practice. He walked over to where Fred and George were sitting.

"All right, Harry?" Fred asked. Harry shrugged.

"DA meeting on Wednesday, right?" George confirmed.

"Yes, and I think we're going to be finishing off the offensive techniques then and we'll do some revision next week and then start on Patronuses."

"Awesome," grinned Fred. "Listen, Harry, what do you think of this prank we're going to play on old Filch?"

Harry listened to the twins' plans, laughing in all the right places and assuring them it was a brilliant prank. His mind, however, wasn't completely with them. He kept thinking of the small section of Snape's memories he'd seen the night before having used Protego on his teacher during the Occlumency lesson. He never before thought he'd feel sorry for Snape, but the boy had endured fighting at home and extreme loneliness. And that last memory – of a girl laughing at a young boy as he'd tried to mount a bucking broom. Harry hadn't noticed it at the time but the red-headed girl had been slightly familiar, and he probably wouldn't have thought about it if, just as Snape had pushed Harry out of his mind, Harry hadn't seen quite clearly the girls' eyes. His eyes. It hadn't been until afterward that Harry had realised that the boy hadn't been Snape. Snape had simply been a witness to this event. No, Harry had seen his mother laughing at his father.

**9th March 1997**

Harry and Ron were both sat in the Hospital Wing. It was little over a week since Ron's birthday, and the incident with the poisoned mead and he was now feeling perfectly fine, if a little frustrated that he wasn't allowed out yet. Even more frustrated about this was Harry who only wanted to find McLaggen and strangle him for the disaster that was the Quidditch match the day before. Three hundred and twenty to sixty! It would be a miracle if they managed to win the cup now, especially with Katie still gone – they'd need a margin of three hundred points or more on Ravenclaw in the final match of the season. Harry was pleased with himself, however, for having the thought to set Kreacher and Dobby on Malfoy's tail. Finally, he might get to find out where the Slytherin kept disappearing to. For some reason, Madame Pomfrey was taking extra precautions to stop the boys from having visitors and so they found themselves alone for the whole day, discussing Quidditch tactics and more theories about Ron's poisoning. Harry tried to persuade Ron to dump Lavender, which he wanted to do but didn't know how.

As they lay there for longer, Harry realised it was Mother's Day and allowed himself a melancholy smile as he thought of his mother. He never did have the chance to ask Sirius how his parents had got together in the end. He'd have to ask Remus some time. This brought his thoughts to Remus, and he wondered if he was still underground with the werewolves. It occurred to him that his old teacher's birthday was tomorrow... shame he couldn't really send him a present or anything when he's meant to be undercover. Harry sighed. Why did everyone who he might see as a parent figure have to be dead or in hiding?

**22nd March 1998**

Harry lay in the tent listening to Ron's attempts to get the right password for Potterwatch. Hermione sat next to the red-head watching him. Harry was glad the two of them had made up – it was less awkward now that they were both speaking normally, although he wished they would hurry up and admit their feelings for each other.

He turned the snitch around in his hands, wondering if the resurrection stone really was in there, and if so, how he would get to it. It would be nice, thought Harry, to get to talk to his parents. He knew that it was a selfish thought when both Ron and Hermione had had to leave their parents too, in order to help him, but it didn't stop him thinking it. He missed Sirius too, and from there his thoughts immediately jumped to Remus, wondering if he was back with Tonks and if their baby was nearly due. Being on the run really didn't help him to keep track of the days.

Dudley wished his mother a quiet happy Mother's Day and she looked at him, startled that he had spoken. Since they'd gone into hiding, Dudley had been reserved, not talking to his parents and staying in his room. He'd only really spoken to ask Hestia Jones if there was any news about Harry. Every time, she hadn't known anything. She gave him regular updates on the rest of the wizarding world, though, and explained Harry's connection to certain people such as Luna Lovegood, who had gone missing, and Ted Tonks who had been forced into hiding. Petunia found herself listening in on these conversations, just as desperate as Dudley to hear news of her other son, even if it had only been recently that she had started to consider him as that.

**2nd March 2008**

Mother's Day in the Potter household was always a strange one. It was the one day a year that Harry Potter had always felt a little closer to the aunt who had raised him, and for that reason, the family always had dinner with the Dursleys, alternating whether Harry or Dudley was to host.

This year was Harry's turn. He made Ginny sit down with baby Lily on her lap as he ran around, flicking his wand to ensure that everything was cooking fine and that the table was laid. Five-year old James had been the one to give his mother the large bouquet of flowers which were now in a vase in the middle of the coffee table, whilst it was the younger but more sensible Albus who was allowed to help Harry in the kitchen, even if all he did was feed the cat.

There was a knock at the door and Harry rushed to answer it before Ginny felt the need to get up, or James managed to beat him to it. His uncle shook his hand reluctantly and his aunt gave him a hug. Dudley followed his parents into the house, leading his wife, Charlotte, and his two daughters, Polly and Vicky, who were five and two respectively. Harry had always wondered if either of the two girls would ever show signs of magic – he'd found out that Charlotte's uncle had gone to Hogwarts, although he was the only known member of the family who was a wizard. Hermione reckoned that with two parents having magical traces in their ancestry, it was fairly probable.

The mealtime was, as expected, quite awkward. Everyone there knew about magic, although only the Potter component knew a significant amount whilst the Dursley components were less involved and more wary. Technically, Harry was sure that Charlotte and the children shouldn't really know about it, but even as Head Auror, he couldn't bring himself to modify their memories. Besides, it was difficult to stop James from showing Polly his kiddie's broomstick and wizard games, such as exploding snap. However, that didn't stop the tense atmosphere whenever Ginny discussed her Daily Prophet work or when James stole his father's wand and had to be disarmed by his mother. At these points, Harry, Petunia and Dudley all turned to Vernon to see him clench his jaw as he attempted not to say anything.

When Teddy flooed in just after tea, however, Vernon seemed to take it in his stride. Harry looked around at his family – at Ginny and Petunia cooing over Lily, at Dudley and Vernon talking gruffly and watching James and Polly run around the room, at Albus and Vicky quietly colouring, and at Teddy who came over, gave his godfather a hug and proceeded to wish Ginny a happy Mother's Day. He then thought of the rest of his family who he saw the day before to celebrate Ron's birthday – the Weasleys in all their numbers, his parents-in-law, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Percy and Audrey, George and Angelina, Ron and Hermione, and of course all of Harry and Ginny's nieces and nephews. Finally, he spared a thought for Fred, for Remus and Tonks, for Sirius, and for James and Lily. He couldn't believe, really, how he'd gone from a young boy who craved love, to a man who had so many people in his life.


End file.
